Do you remember the very first story that you either read or was read to you? Sicily. 1962. First grade (or the equivalent thereof). It was a short story, and, to this day, I remember, above all else, the emotion with which my teacher read. It was a tale of an orphaned little boy, who was adopted by his teacher! I'm guessing, upon reflection, that that was when I fell in love with the written word. I wanted to be the teacher-the characters in a book. A teller of fantastic tales that would live long after that final word is read. I've, since, read, OH, so very many books (and am now writing a few more of my own). From Shakespeare to Poe, Kafka, Joyce, Hemingway, Faulkner, Lee, Stowe, and far more than that, my eclectic taste gains momentum! Moreover, my poets list gets longer and more diverse; from the Romantics, to the Harlem Renaissance/Beatniks and Contemporaries (Shakespeare & Poe-my main meal), I devour letters like a child might devour Halloween or Easter candy. I read many books both from 'renowned' authors to the, sometimes, overlooked indie author; and, still, while I love tales (historical fiction and history tales my go-to's) of many, I find myself, quite often, and I mean QUITE OFTEN, reverting back to the classics. Now, we, or at least, I, dream of being one of those classic writers, I realize that I am a weaver of tales and at times of self-doubt, I think/imagine what writers from Dickens to poets like Dickenson must have been thinking or going through. Today, is a day off self-reflection! I write because it is an essential part of what makes me, ME! I write to satisfy the voices that speak from my soul! I write because...and in the writing I become something larger than even I can, in all honesty, understand. The classics are my mainstay, my breakfast, lunch, and dinner! However, my writing is my dessert!!!!! KEEP ON KEEPING ON, folk! Weave YOUR KIND OF WONDERFUL MAGIC!